


Like Young Spring

by redyarns



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Don't take it too seriously, Fluff, M/M, Protective Frisk, Protective OC, Protective Sans, Selectively Mute Frisk, also frisk and oc aren't at all romantically interested in each other, also this fic isn't written that well, because i know someone's gonna ask, begins canonically then diverges, frisk uses they/them pronouns, he/him pronouns for oc, it's not a retell so don't even start, lol, oc doesn't talk too much, oc falls down with frisk, oc is affectionate with frisk and sans and papyrus, oc is frisk's guardian, oc is just very protective of young frisk, oc is thirsty for sans, was intentionally a slow burn but i guess not
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-23
Updated: 2018-09-23
Packaged: 2019-07-15 21:32:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,557
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16071761
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/redyarns/pseuds/redyarns
Summary: There are only two people he'd ever RESET for.





	Like Young Spring

He was trying his best to guide the both of them - Frisk’s hand, smaller than his, grappled at his own tightly, both of their faces lightly sheened with sweat as they climbed the seemingly endless mountain.

 

“C’mon, sweetheart,” he whispered, and despite his own exhaustion, he picked Frisk up in a well-practiced manner. Immediately, Frisk tightened their arms around his neck, and he continued up, breathing harshly and all the while thinking, _‘get to the top. Get to the top. Get to the top_.'

 

An hour or so later - he couldn’t tell exactly when his lungs and legs had gone numb - he was shakily walking towards the large opening at the top of Mt. Ebott, but his grip on Frisk was as firm as ever. The sweet child was worried over his struggle to breathe properly, evident by their frowning face and how they kept hugging his neck.

 

“It’s okay,” he rasped, and he pressed a small kiss to Frisk’s head, finding comfort in the familiar scent of their hair. “It’s okay, love. I’ve got you.”

 

They were nearing the opening, and he was ready to set Frisk down so they could observe the chasm - but instead, he tripped on a thick, vine-like root, and they were hurling towards the great chasm, yet they didn’t make a sound as they fell deeper and deeper. This, he realized, was something that they both did not find terrifying - not when they had already been through hell and back. It was a mere dip in the pool compared to their previous dives.

 

Instead, he held Frisk close, twisting himself so he would take the impact of the fall, eyes open to the sky as Frisk buried their nose against his neck and trembled lightly.

 

When they finally hit the ground, it wasn’t at all what he had expected. He was cushioned by something, and he didn’t even feel a single inch of impact.

 

He sat up, dazed, and realized that they had in fact landed in a large field of golden flowers, their velvet petals softening the hit and absorbing the force with which they would have felt otherwise.

 

Frisk tugged on his sleeve, catching his attention, and soon he was laying his hands all over the child’s face to assess if they were okay.

 

“Oh, sweetheart, I’m so sorry,” he whispered, and sniffed a little, tears developing in his eyes. He rubbed at them before leaning closer. “Are you okay?”

 

Frisk smiled, beamed, actually, and nodded. They ran their small hand across his face, fingers running gently underneath his eye, and he nodded too. “I’m fine. Now, c’mon, love.”

 

He stood, gently brushing off any stray golden petals sticking to his sweater and then doing the same for Frisk. He grabbed their hand and they stayed close to his leg as he observed around them.

 

Great, arching ivory columns that were cracked and had vines winding around them reached for the skies, the only opening being the chasm they had both fallen into. They were so far deep that what had been a large hole was now a mere circle the size of his thumb. He observed it dispassionately, but when he looked Frisk, the child was glancing up at the slowly turning orange sky with wistful eyes.

 

 _We have to go home_ , he realized, even though he didn’t know how. Even though he didn’t want to. But he had promised to follow wherever Frisk went without question, so if they wanted home, then home it was.

 

Suddenly, Frisk tugged sharply at his sleeve, alarm in their actions, and he whirled around.

 

That…

 

That wasn’t there before.

 

It was a flower, he realized, as they stepped closer, but a flower with a face? Its smile was cheerful, _too_ cheerful, and it was waving a leaf at them joyfully in a _‘come here’_ motion.

 

He swallowed and nodded slowly before edging closer.

 

“Howdy!” It said when they were in close range of it. It beamed up at them. “I’m Flowey! Flowey the Flower. You two are new here in the Underground, aren’tcha? Gosh! Here, I’ll show you how everything is around here!”

 

With that, Flowey made yet another motion, and the older human gasped as a curious sensation happened in his chest. Tug, tug, tug, it went, until suddenly, right from the middle of his sternum, a bright green heart floated out. He stared. It was a heart, he repeated to himself. But not a human heart, no - it was cartoonish, the ones that Frisk drew him on a piece of paper whenever they had a particularly good day, a bright mess of crayon that was simple and a single shade of color.

 

The color of his heart was a vivid green, glowing bright in the slowly darkening of the cave (cave? Or was it something else), lighting his skin and his hair. Beside him, there was an even brighter red shine, and he turned to see Frisk staring with wonder at their own heart, a fierce scarlet, and he thought to himself that it was quite beautiful.

 

“This is your SOUL!” Flowey chirped happily, gesturing to their hearts. “The very culmination of your entire being!”

 

A box appeared in front of both him and Frisk, and the humans looked at them curiously. It was black with a white border, and there were several things on it that made him pause.

 

His name was at the top, and right next to it something that read as LV. To the bottom, four orange buttons glowed brightly. FIGHT, ACT, ITEMS, MERCY. A bar that said HP, 20/20, and another bar next to it that once again said LV.

 

What the _hell_?

 

“That LV stands for LOVE!” Flowey said happily. “Down here, we gain LOVE by getting EXP. We share EXP and gain LOVE through little white things called… ‘friendliness pellets!’”

 

The flower winked, and a little row of white, shining bullets (they reminded him of stars, almost) surrounded them.

 

He glared at them warily.

 

“Go on! Try to get them.” Flowey encouraged.

 

 _‘No,'_ his mind whispered, and he obeyed.

 

Quickly, he whisked Frisk up into his arms and dashed off to the side as the so called “friendliness pellets" grew close, not trusting the too-wide smile on Flowey’s face. The bright green and red of their SOULs followed them, along with the curious black boxes.

 

“Hey,” Flowey said, and when he turned to the flower, rising levels of danger rose within him. Whoever the hell this flower was, it wasn’t good - Flowey’s eyes narrowed, and its smile turned sarcastic. “Buddy, what do you think you’re doing? Go _towards_ the pellets.”

 

Frisk tugged at his sleeve, pointing towards the slowly advancing pellets, but he refused.

 

“Dangerous,” he murmured, and Frisk clasped their hands around his neck.

 

He dodged once more.

 

“ _You know what’s going on, don’t you?_ ”

 

He stood, frightened, and hugged Frisk tightly to his body as the once wide and cheerful smile on Flowey’s face was replaced with something far more malicious. It tickled shivers up his spine, and he was helpless to stop Frisk as they too stared at the flower.

 

The flower giggled, and he started rubbing Frisk’s back in little circles, hoping that the touch would soothe his small companion’s increasingly frowning face.

 

“ _Idiots_. In this world,” Flowey cackled, and indeed, its voice was far too malicious now - it was almost demonic, with layers of different tones and octaves, and at that moment, with Frisk in his arms, he knew he had to do everything he could in order to protect the precious life he was holding. “It’s _kill or be killed._ ”

 

So he crouched, waiting tensely, as a ring of pellets surrounded them. Seeds, he suddenly realized. They were seeds.

 

Flowey started laughing, and Frisk shivered lightly within his arms. He was equally disturbed - the sound was definitely demonic at this point. He needed to keep Frisk safe, but how?

 

He eyed the seeds as they closed in, forming a tighter ring by the second. He started thinking rapidly, going through several options as to how he could protect the little human within his arms - how, how, how?

 

He wouldn't know what to do with himself if Frisk got hurt, or even worse, _killed_. They were all he had anymore - to him, they were everything, and he knew that he’d jump in front of the child to take the seeds himself if he had to.

 

By this point, it seemed like that was the only option.

 

So he crouched down and curled himself tightly around Frisk, tucking in any limbs so the child was fully surrounded by his body.

 

Frisk touched his face gently, small fingertips grazing his cheekbones, but he merely smiled at them, and gently pressed a kiss to their forehead, where their frowning had deepened and caused small lines to appear.

 

“Don’t worry, sweetheart,” he whispered, and he hoped that his voice would drown out the increasingly louder volume of Flowey’s gut-wrenching laughter. “It’s okay. I promise. When I get hit and it all stops, I need you to run, okay?”

 

Frisk shook their head vehemently, frowning even deeper, and they signed, **don’t do this.**

 

“Oh, love,” he breathed, and merely clasped a firm hand to the back of Frisk’s head, protecting it from harm, and curled even tighter around them.

 

He could feel the pellets approaching, and he braced himself -

 

There was the sound of Flowey screaming, and he shot his head up to see fire engulfing the maniac flower before it scowled deeply, and with a high-pitched shriek, disappeared into the ground, leaving nothing but the scent of charred petals behind.

 

“What a miserable creature, torturing such poor, innocent youth,” said a lovely voice, one that was soft and deep with wisdom - he gazed in wonder as a woman highly resembling a goat smiled patiently at both him and Frisk. Her dark eyes were comforting, and the fact that she got rid of Flowey only made her seem better than that absolutely horrible flower.

 

“Hello! I am Toriel,” she greeted pleasantly. “I haven’t seen a human in a very long time. The Ruins have been untouched by your kind’s hands for several decades.”

 

When he gazed at her, nothing but warmth filled his chest, and his mind was calm. There was nothing dangerous about this woman. He smiled at her and then fully unfolded himself, settling Frisk on his hip so the child could hold on while simultaneously gaze at the newcomer in wonder.

 

Frisk tugged lightly on his hair and pointed at the ground, still covered in a heavy layer of golden flowers. He gently set them down, and they grabbed his hand before approaching Toriel with a wide smile.

 

“Come, my children,” she said, her own lips lifting up as she reached down and gently took Frisk’s other hand, their small one miniscule compared to her large, fur-covered paw. “I shall guide you through the Ruins. There are puzzles in every room, all of which could confuse or hurt you.”

 

 **I like you,** Frisk signed up to Toriel, and to the taller human’s surprise, Toriel beamed in response.

 

“Why thank you, my child.”

 

“You know sign language?” He said, realizing that he hadn’t made a sound in a while.

 

Toriel smiled pleasantly at him and reached over to smooth a paw down his hair. He half-closed his eyes and nearly purred at the touch - the contact was soothing and motherly, something he and Frisk hadn’t felt in a long time.

 

“My sweet child,” she began. “I will not be as disrespectful as not including those who wish to speak in hands rather than words. I have learned your small friend’s language decades ago - if you wish to do so, you may also sign, I am more than happy to adjust if it makes you more comfortable.”

 

He smiled at her with gratitude, and shrugged lightly as they approached the purple arching doorway that he hadn’t noticed before. “I, um, know I tend to be quiet. But I like to talk sometimes, especially to Frisk.”

 

At that, he squeezed their hand gently, and they squeezed back.

 

“I’d like to talk to you, too, if that’s okay,” he offered shyly to Toriel as the monster slowly began guiding them deeper into the RUINS.

 

“My dear, I’d love nothing more,” Toriel positively beamed, and he couldn’t help but grin back.

 

It’s been a long time since he and Frisk had really been this close to someone, he realized. All those months of aching and running and hiding were more like a distant nightmare. This place, the RUINS, and Toriel were like the first breath of fresh air he’d taken in a very long time.

 

 _But we can’t stay_.

 

No, he thought, and glanced down at Frisk. We can’t. Not when Frisk kept glancing back, gazing sadly as the stars slowly disappeared from view, when the fresh breeze and rustle of wind was gone. Frisk wouldn’t feel the sunshine on their skin or be able to go dive into a field of wildflowers while eagerly tugging their guardian behind him.

 

Well, flowers other than golden ones, anyway, he thought as he glanced back warily at the place where Flowey had once been.

 

“This way, dears.”

 

The rooms were certainly something. The puzzles weren’t exactly difficult per say, but he did step back in slight alarm at the sight of tall, metal spikes pointing up from the ground. Toriel had luckily guided them through, but his hand had been tight around Frisk’s nonetheless.

 

It was interesting down here in the Underground, he decided. He wasn’t quite sure if he liked it or not - even now, the purple walls and columns of the RUINS were already making him tired of the color, and Frisk was walking even closer than before.

 

But, he thought to himself, he did know three things - he liked Toriel, he liked the monsters, and he also knew they had to go home.

 

“Up we get,” he said quietly as Frisk sleepily raised their arms and gestured to be carried. He did as silently requested, and gently rubbed a soothing hand on Frisk’s back as he observed the room around them guiltily.

 

Toriel’s home was so lovely - it was practically the physical embodiment of her. The smell of warm, cinnamon-butterscotch pie was in the air, the room they were in was soft and comfortable, and when he found her in the sitting room next to the fire while reading a book with spectacles and a calm smile on her face, he knew that what he was about to do was going to only hurt all of them.

 

He just never would have imagined that it would come to this.

 

“ _Frisk_!” He screamed as Toriel’s paws blazed with bright orange flames. The child dodged just barely, their SOUL an even more luminescent color than Toriel’s flames, the red bright and humming with magic. He felt relief at that - as long as their SOUL was so big and red and beautiful like that, he knew they were okay.

 

 **Toriel** , Frisk signed despondently.

 

“Toriel,” he breathed, and his own green SOUL thrummed in front of him, the black and white box floating right beside him. She couldn’t see the box, he knew, but without even a moment’s hesitation, he pressed the MERCY button.

 

Beside him, Frisk did the same, and they both dodged as yet another fire attack hurled towards them.

 

“If you wish to leave,” Toriel snarled, her once kind and pretty force contorted with her anger and grief. “Then fight and show me what you are capable of!”

 

“No!” He shouted, and he had to stop this, _please_ \- he loved Toriel, he loved both her and Frisk, but they had to go home. They had to.

 

In hindsight, he should have realized the solution earlier - walking calmly towards her, Frisk raised their small hands, and wrapped their arms around Toriel’s midsection.

 

And then he heard something he hadn’t heard in a long time.

 

“We’ll see you again.” Frisk whispered, and he couldn’t help but press a hand to his mouth. Their voice was a rare treat, something they never truly used, because they were quiet and shy and scared sometimes. So was he, and sometimes he spoke but rarely (except for when it concerned Frisk), but they spoke even less commonly than him.

 

Maybe it was because of his teary eyes, or because of Frisk’s too-soft voice from lack of use, or because of their loving hug, but Toriel was falling to her knees and grasping Frisk while grabbing him as well.

 

“Oh, my dear children,” she gasped, tears falling and hitting their cheeks. “The dangers you must face will surely make you suffer. When you leave, please… Do not come back.”

 

Frisk shook their head minutely, and after a moment more of desperate hugging, she stood and stepped back.

 

“Goodbye, my dears.” She said, and she wasn’t crying anymore, but her voice was full of grief and her hands were shaky as she walked away back down the hallway, disappearing into the darkness of the RUINS and back to her home upstairs.

 

Frisk grabbed his hand and squeezed.

 

“Don’t worry, love,” he said, watching as their SOULs and mysterious boxes disappear from sight. “We’ll come back.”

 

He gazed up at the large purple doors that supposedly led to the rest of the Underground.

 

This was it, he realized. Once he opened those doors, they would face the rest of the monsters, and they would come across obstacles in every direction. He’d have to protect Frisk - and he would do it to the best of his abilities, even if his SOUL was such a dull and weak color compared to Frisk’s much more beautiful one.

 

He squared his shoulders and squeezed Frisk’s hand lightly.

 

“We’ll come back,” he repeated.

 

Then he reached out and pushed.

 

**XxXxXxXxXxX**

 

Cold was the first thing that entered his mind.

 

But at the same time it wasn’t.

 

It was certainly a strange feeling. The cold was biting at his fingers and his nose, and immediately he scooped up Frisk so the child could cling onto him and absorb some of his body heat - he’d hate for them to get a cold, but honestly he doubted it. While the cold was certainly a slap in the face compared to the warmth that had permeated the RUINS, there was a certain feeling about the snow-capped trees and bushes that filled him with something similar to a gentle flame.

 

 **Toriel** , Frisk signed sadly, their gaze fixed upon the large doors that were now shut behind the both of them.

 

He smoothed a hand down their back and started to walk through the snow, leaving behind a set of footprints. “Toriel,” he repeated them, his voice soft.

 

The walk was honestly not as bad as he thought it would be. The quiet of the gentle snow falling and Frisk’s consistent, slow breaths soothed him. It was a reminder that they had succeeded - they were going to go home.

 

Frisk’s hand tightened on his sleeve, and though he didn’t stop walking, his shoulders tensed.

 

 **Someone** , Frisk signed, their eye just barely peeking over his shoulder at someone who was apparently following them.

 

He swallowed back a sharp inhale, and instead tried to hasten his walking.

 

Thank god the snow wasn’t too deep, maybe two to three inches at max, but as he approached what seemed like a rather poorly-built gate (the bars were far too wide, what the heck?), Frisk signed, **wait**.

 

“ **b u d d y** ,” someone said behind them, and he froze.

 

“ **d o n ‘ t  y o u  k n o w  h o w  t o  g r e e t  a  n e w  f r i e n d ?** ”

 

Slowly, he turned, arms tight around Frisk. The figure in front of him was tall - taller than him, at least, and they wore a blue hoodie with the fluffy hood pulled up so their face was shadowed. They held out a hand, and with one arm still tightly around Frisk, he slowly reached out and took it.

 

The first thing he realized: the hand was made of just bones, the feeling peculiar and smooth against his skin.

 

The second thing he realized: _Pfffffffffft_.

 

Frisk broke out into laughter, their voice high and amused, and he was giggling as well, chortles startling his shoulders as he pulled back slightly to see the whoopee cushion in the skeletal hand.

 

“hehe,” the figure chuckled, and they pulled their hood back to reveal dark eyes and a grinning face. They winked lazily. “sup, pals. the name’s sans, sans the skeleton.”

 

 _He’s cute_ , he couldn’t help but think.

 

Frisk eagerly signed their guardian’s name, and he waved shyly.

 

“that’s your name, huh?” Sans said. “nice to meet ya, buddy.”

 

The older human bit his lip before signing, **you can read us?**

 

“pal, trust me, you ain’t the only one who speaks in hands around here,” Sans’ permanent grin widened fractionally. “you know, i never saw more than one human fall down before. i can tell you two are close - siblings?”

 

Frisk smooshed their cheek against their guardian’s before pointing at the ground. He set them down gently and the child ran enthusiastically towards Sans, bouncing on their feet. The older human huffed a gentle sound of laughter and signed, **we’re family, but not by blood.**

 

Sans’ expressions were amused as he laid a hand on Frisk’s head and ruffled up the brown locks slightly. “hey there, kiddo. you know, speaking of family, i’m technically supposed to capture any human that comes through here. except that requires effort and i don’t have any of that. my brother, though - “

 

Sans obligingly scooped up Frisk when the small human made gestures. He settled them on his hip and let the child play with his bony fingers before continuing. “he’s obsessed with capturing humans. i wouldn’t worry too much, you can probably make it to snowdin fine. c’mon, let’s go through the gate - my brother made it to stop humans from passing through but he made the bars too wide.”

 

And with Frisk safely in Sans’ hold, the skeleton began walking, and the older human was quick to catch up.

 

Unable to hold himself back, he signed with a large grin, **snowdin?**

 

Sans chuckled. “our king isn’t the best at naming things.”

 

The human tossed back his head and laughed, Frisk giggling along with him.

 

He observed the skeleton, at the way his bony hands gently coddled Frisk, how he kept glancing back to make sure he was following him, and also how goddamn gorgeous both him and his voice were. The human’s face lightly heated at the thought, but he didn’t bother rejecting it. No use in denying the truth.

 

 **You love your brother,** he decided to sign as he thought back to what Sans had said before.

 

Sans beamed with pride, and his voice was fond as he said, “yeah, my bro’s the coolest. he’s training to be a royal guard, and works really hard. he tries to make friends a lot, but most don’t agree with his enthusiasm.”

 

Sans shrugged and frowned lightly before unzipping his jacket and letting a shivering Frisk cling to his shirt before zipping back up and holding the lump of human as Frisk peeked out from under his shirt collar. “geeze, kid, as soon as we’re gettin’ to snowdin we’re gonna get you and your buddy some scarves and gloves, i can feel your fingers and they’re freezing on my bones.”

 

The older human bit his lip - could Sans be anymore perfect? He so obviously loved his brother and was incredibly proud of him, not to mention that he was fluent in taking care of Frisk, which was a relief considering the older human’s arms had gone numb a few minutes ago.

 

“You’re so sweet,” he said softly, cheeks red and eyes wide with genuine as he gazed at Sans with admiration.

 

Abruptly, Sans’ face went a bright cyan, and his ever-permanent smile faltered slightly as he coughed and pretended to busy himself patting Frisk’s hair, who was suddenly looking all too smug. Sans voice was slightly shaky as he said, “thanks, pal.”

 

The older human observed Sans’ blue cheekbones - so he was blushing. God, that was so cute.

 

Sans cleared his throat before saying quietly, “you got a nice voice, kid. i know you don’t like talkin’ too much but uh, if it’s around me… how ‘bout every once in a while you and i have a chat about somethin’? only if you want to,” he attached on quickly, face an even deeper cyan while Frisk was practically vibrating in his jacket from excitement.

 

The older human grinned widely and shuffled even closer before shyly looping his arm through Sans’. The skeleton’s skull was beaded lightly with sweat from nerves but he tugged him closer anyway.

 

The human leaned his head on Sans’ bicep, and mumbled, “I’d love to.”

 

The rest of the walk was silent save for Frisk’s occasional chirp of wonder as they pointed at things, making both Sans and their guardian laugh before answering their furiously signed questions.

 

Of course, the silence was utterly broken as they came upon a rock, a pathway, and an angry looking skeleton that was somehow even taller than Sans.

 

“SANS!” The skeleton yelled, and his voice was loud, loud enough to startle both humans and caused Sans to huddle Frisk even closer to his chest and also shuffle a little in front of the young man as he curled his arm tighter around Sans’.

 

“‘sup, bro,” Sans greeted.

 

The boy peeked over Sans’ shoulder at the tall skeleton. He was Sans’ brother? He was so… different compared to the shorter skeleton. He was obscenely tall (seriously, like at least seven to eight feet), his voice was loud and enthusiastic, and he was brimming with excitement with a dramatic red cape that stood sharply against the white of the snow.

 

Sans was laid-back, spoke informally, and definitely didn’t has as much energy as the other. Somehow, the young man couldn’t find it in himself to mind.

 

“SANS!” The tall skeleton once again said. “I HAVE YET TO CAPTURE A HUMAN! HOW CAN I, THE GREAT PAPYRUS, REACH MY TRUE DESTINY BY BECOMING A ROYAL GUARD IF I DON’T DO WHAT UNDYNE TOLD ME TO DO? AND WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE? YOU’RE SUPPOSED TO BE AT YOUR STATION!”

 

“i dunno, paps. guess you could call me _lazybones_ ,” Sans winked, and both humans giggled at the joke. Sans’ grin grew a fraction wider, visibly pleased by their amusement.

 

“UGH! SANS!” Papyrus groaned, even stomping his foot a little so a few flecks of snow splattered his boot. “I’M GOING TO GO REDO YOUR PUZZLES SINCE YOU’RE OBVIOUSLY TOO LAZY TO DO THEM. NYEHEHE!”

 

And with that, he disappeared while dramatically flapping his red cape behind him.

 

“He’s really funny,” the taller human said softly, a smile twitching at his lips.

 

“yeah,” Sans chuckled, and patted Frisk’s head when the child wiggled underneath his jacket. “my bro’s the coolest.”

 

The young man smiled shyly up at the skeleton and nodded. “He is.”

 

Sans went a bright blue, but he laughed, and they slowly trudged through the snow, finding warmth in each other.

**Author's Note:**

> haha don't take this fic too seriously
> 
> read my other stuff instead
> 
> honestly this is just me being undertale trash
> 
> tumblr: http://redyarns.tumblr.com/


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